


Dance Lessons

by gayspacepng



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, really cute fluff, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayspacepng/pseuds/gayspacepng
Summary: In which Marco is a dance instructor and Jean, really, really needs to learn how to dance. Really.





	Dance Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I'm p sure I wrote this forever ago as a gift to a friend and I found it in my google docs and changed a few things and thought why not  
> also this is the first time in a long time that I've posted anything I've written so uh rip me

It’s not like Jean really had any other choice in this. How was he even supposed to know that out of all of his friends, Marco would be the only one that knew how to dance? Sure, he was a dance instructor, but Jean had figured that at least _one_ of his other friends had learned to dance for _something._

Of course, he couldn’t back out now, even though his stomach was tight with nerves and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Plus, his sister’s wedding was in a week and he was expected to have a dance with her or some bullshit.

In all honesty, he’d completely forgotten about that part until his sister had called the day before to ask how the dancing lessons were coming along.

Cue the panic.

Now, sitting in Marco’s small apartment waiting for him to pick out a good song for them to dance to, Jean was beginning to regret agreeing to this stupid dance thing. If it had been anyone else, he probably wouldn’t be this nervous. But it was Marco — Marco with his broad shoulders, his freckles, his always-fucking-positive personality — and there wasn’t a damn thing Jean could do but sit there and watch as Marco turned around and smiled at him. (He really, really wished that his stomach would just  _stop_ doing somersaults without his consent. How inconsiderate.) 

“Okay,” Marco said with a clap of his hands. “You ready to learn from the master?”

Jean snorted, a bit of the nervous tension in his gut releasing. “Master? Point me in the direction and I will be.” He stood up, walking towards Marco with what was probably a dorky smile on his face.

With a huff and a mumbled response, Marco took a hold of Jean’s arms, guiding one so that it was around him, Jean’s hand sitting on top of his shoulder blade. Marco placed his left hand on Jean’s shoulder and connected his right one with Jean’s other so that their palms were together.

“Since you’re gonna be leading, you’ll have to start off like this, alright?”

In a matter of seconds the tips of Jean’s ears had turned bright pink at how they were positioned. “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded, his voice obviously flustered. Those _goddamn_ butterflies were back and he couldn’t look Marco in the eye anymore.

“Okay,” Jean could hear the smile in Marco’s voice and he felt like he was going to explode . “I’m just gonna teach you a simple box step for now, and if you feel up for something else afterwards, I can teach you more.” He started directing Jean how to move his feet, the couple slowly falling into their own rhythm. Every time Jean stepped on Marco’s foot, said rhythm broke -- but it was replaced with Marco’s laughter and Marco’s smile and Jean couldn’t stop apologizing. But he was grinning, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t smiled this much in months.

He was going purely on autopilot due to the fact that he couldn’t stop focusing on the heat coming from Marco. Marco’s hand in his. Marco’s hand on his shoulder. Marco’s body so close to Jean’s. He was completely certain that the heat on his face was his own, though, and couldn’t even imagine how pink he must be.

“You know, your sister might be a little offended if you can’t even manage to look at her when you dance,” Marco said, that damn smile in his voice again that made Jean want to just _fucking kiss hi-_

Wait. _No._

Jean stopped that train of thought before it could go any further, clearing his throat and finally looking up at Marco.

That was a bad idea.

Marco had this fucking _look_ on his face- something between teasing and happy and compassionate - and his fucking _smile_ and just- _J_ _esus christ_ , Jean thought he was going to implode. He stumbled over his feet and ended up stepping on Marco _again._

“Shit- shit sorry Marco I-” Jean stopped himself with a loud groan. “You know, there’s a reason I never learned how to dance,” he finally mumbled, looking down at his feet to make sure he wasn’t embarrassing himself anymore.

“You wanna know a secret?” Marco asked, stopping their dancing - if that’s what you could really call it - and causing Jean to look up at him again. He was still red in the face, but more from embarrassment now than being flustered. “You’re pretty cute like this.”

Of course Marco had to say that. Marco with his perfect dance skills. Marco with his hands still touching Jean. Marco with his _smile_ and his _eyes_ and all those _goddamn freckles._ Jean could feel his mouth opening and closing, his mind completely devoid of response.

“I-I-”

And then Marco was _laughing_ . He was fucking _laughing_ at how flustered Jean was. Gut wrenching, hands-clutching-his-sides laughter that shook his whole body. He pulled away and Jean was brought out of his stupor, folding his arms and looking anywhere _but_ Marco, even more embarrassed now than he’d been before.

“If that’s how you’re gonna be about it-” He was cut off by Marco, still laughing, stepping closer and putting his hand on Jean’s shoulder.

“Don’t be like that Jean it’s just-” He started laughing again- no he was actually _giggling_ and if Jean hadn’t been trying to act angry towards Marco he would’ve been dumbstruck by how cute it was.

“You just looked so helpless and and flustered you looked like- like a _tomato,_ Jean!”  Marco finally finished after catching his breath, looking up and meeting Jean’s eyes.

“Yeah, well…” Jean trailed off, totally not thinking about how good Marco looked and how beautiful his smile was. Totally, completely not. “I’m not fucking cute,” he finally mumbled, crossing his arms and moving to pull away from Marco’s touch.

Of _course_ , though, the guy had to throw him for a loop, _again_ , by stepping closer and placing his other hand firmly on Jean’s other shoulder. And of _course,_ Jean froze at the close proximity, feeling a heat creep up in his face once again. His thoughts went from a mile a minute to being the same phrase over and over: _Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him._

And he did.

He leaned forward, brought his hands up so he was holding Marco’s jaw, and pulled him in until their lips met. It was chaste, and rushed, but Jean’s stomach was doing flips again and it just felt so _right_ and-

He pulled away, bringing his hands away from Marco’s face and looking down at the ground his apology already tumbling past his lips so fast he stumbled on his words. “Sorry I- I don’t know- I don’t know what came over me. I-”

But Marco made an impatient noise and Jean only had just enough time to look up again before Marco was kissing him again and he could feel the smile on his lips.

And Jean really, really wished he’d remembered to ask for dance lessons earlier.


End file.
